


A Study in Fred

by Radiday



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 11:01:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16016549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Radiday/pseuds/Radiday
Summary: from Jughead’s perspective





	1. Chapter 1

The thing about Fred Andrews is, Jughead’s known him his whole life. FP tells him that, one day, during one of his drunken rants, going on and on about how Fred kicked him when he was down, how unfair he’d been. _He was there the day you were born, you know. That fucker_ , he says, anger amplified by alcohol. _If I would’ve known he was going to stab me in the back I wouldn’t have let him come._

Jughead feels his stomach twist when he hears that, but he tries to ignore it. FP’s words prove to be false, anyways. He finds that out when he braces himself against the metal bars of FP’s jail cell.

FP doesn’t say anything, watching as Jughead’s mouth opens and closes over and over again without any words coming out. Finally, he rasps out, _There was a robbery at Pop’s. Fred Andrews was shot._ He swallows thickly as FP lifts his head from his hands, a look on his face that Jughead can only describe as sheer horror. _He’s in surgery now._ FP’s eyes bore holes into his own. _They don’t know if he’s going to make it._

Jughead watches his father closely, waiting for a reaction. He still jumps when FP starts to violently shake the bars of the jail sell. _Tom! Get your ass in here!_

Sheriff Keller comes running into the room. Jughead tries to apologize with his eyes. _You knew about Fred Andrews?_ he snarls, jabbing a finger at Tom through the bars.

Tom tries to calm him down, but FP won’t have it. _You didn’t tell me. How could you not tell me?_

His voice is just as angry as it is sad, Jughead notices. It makes his heart sink.

 _I need to get out,_ FP says. _I need to see him._

Tom tries to reason with him. _You can’t do that, FP._

 _Bull,_ FP spits out.

Tom manages to reason with him, eventually. Jughead watches as Tom promises that he’ll tell FP as soon as Fred wakes up, and maybe, if he can swing it, take FP to see him. _Jughead’ll keep me posted_ , Tom says, nodding at him, and Jughead nods back.

All he can think is that maybe his dad didn’t hate Fred Andrews as much as he thought he did.

As he leaves the station, he finds himself wishing that he could have been a fly on the wall during their high school days, to see what Fred and FP were like when they were young, without the weight of children and wives and Black Hoods on their shoulders.

Jughead watches Fred rally every time someone comes to visit and deflate almost instantly after they leave the hospital room.

He sees the way Fred’s body sags, the way he struggles to keep his eyes open, and suddenly feels equal parts useless and helpless, afraid to stay but also afraid to leave. Afraid that if he does leave, this’ll all reveal itself to be an illusion and he’ll never see Fred Andrews again.

That’s not a world he wants to live in.

 

* * *

 

Archie comes home one day and has it in his head that Fred should come to the winter festival, where he’ll be playing with the Pussycats.

 _Well I appreciate the offer, son, but I don’t know if I’m up for that just yet_ , Fred says with a gentle laugh, his dreaded cane leaning against his seat at the dinner table.

 _Come on, dad,_ Archie says brightly _. You just said yesterday that you wanted to get out of the house._

In the end, it’s Jughead that eventually convinces him to go.

 _I don’t want you boys to have to leave early just because I don’t feel up to sticking around_ , Fred says, looking at them with kind but tired eyes, the lines on his face deeper than ever before.

 _Mr. A_ , Jughead says in between bites of his sandwich. _Believe me, I don’t plan on sticking around after Archie plays. I would rather watch all fifteen seasons of Grey’s Anatomy than stay at the winter festival longer than I have to,_ he says sarcastically.

  
So they go, and Jughead trails behind with Fred while Archie runs off for sound check. They find a place near the back, at the end of the row, so Fred can stretch his right side out. He holds his cane up in between his legs and shifts every so often when someone comes up to ask how he’s doing and how good it is to see him out.

By the fifth person, Jughead can hear Fred’s quiet, frustrated sigh and can actually see him plaster a smile on his face.

 Jughead wonders for a second why nobody else seems to notice that Fred’s getting frustrated with all the attention, but then remembers that Jughead’s been around Fred for the last sixteen years and has developed a knack for reading the Andrews’ men and their body language.

So he distracts Fred with school gossip, leaning over and telling Fred about Moose and Midge’s latest public lover’s spat.

He relaxes a bit when he sees Fred breath out a genuine laugh.

 

* * *

 

Fred recovers quickly, or at least acts like he does. Jughead watches in the months after the shooting as Fred hides winces when he turns too quickly or stifles groans when he bends down to pick up a napkin he’s dropped.

But Fred’s always been a trooper. _Strong stalk_ , Mrs. Cooper said.

He remembers one day, not too long after Mary left, that Fred picked him and Archie up from school with half-open eyes and fever- red cheeks and a barely there voice.

Jughead had been shocked, in absolute awe, when Fred had presented two plates of homecooked spaghetti and still managed to help them with their math homework from across the room.

 _You stay over there_ , Fred had said with a voice so hoarse Jughead could feel the pain, _just read the questions out loud. I don’t want to get you boys sick._

Neither one of them caught what Fred had, in the end. Probably because Fred had disinfected the house obsessively.

 

* * *

 

Jughead watches as Mary returns to take care of Fred, watches as they slip back into the life that they used to know, the one that they once shared. They make it seem effortless, as if there wasn’t a time less than a year ago that he’d heard Archie say his parents couldn’t even be in the same room without a mediator.

They speak an unspoken language, one that makes Jughead jealous. He wishes his parents could have that. He wishes he could have it himself.

It’s like they know what the other is thinking… feeling, at any given moment. How Fred can reach out ever so slightly and Mary knows to drop what she’s doing and throw his arm over hers to help him to the couch.

How Fred can sense when Mary’s overwhelmed and uneasy at the sight of his bandage and knows exactly the right time to make a joke.

Betty showed him an article once about different ways couples say ‘I love you,’ without actually saying it, like when they make dinner or tuck you in or blah blah blah… Jughead rolled his eyes at it then, but he thinks he gets it now. Maybe he could write his own article on dedicated solely to Fred and Mary.

He remembers when Mary left, remembers finding Archie knocking on the trailer door just before the start of eighth grade, tears in his eyes and shaking. 

 _Mom left_ , he managed to say through hitched breaths.

FP was well on his way to a semi-permanent state of drunkenness by then, one he’d say in for the next three years, but Jughead will never forget the stunned look on FP’s face when he hears Archie say those words.

He found it strange back then, when FP slurred, _You and your dad will be okay, kid. He’ll take care of you_ , because he knew FP didn’t like Fred. Hadn’t liked him in a long time.

It’s actually FP’s idea that the boys have a sleepover at the Andrews’ that weekend. _Not that I don’t want you here_ , he says in between sips of his beer, _but it might be good for Fred to have some company._

Jughead actually believes him.

For what it’s worth, it’s a good idea. Fred masks his pain well, and if Jughead didn’t know any better, he would think that Fred was completely unaffected by Mary’s leaving.

But Jughead knows better, knows that Fred’s putting on an act for Archie’s sake. His suspicions are proven when he comes downstairs at midnight for a snack (Mr. A always kept the best pantry in town), only to find his second father sitting on the couch, a beer bottle in his hand and tears on his face.

Fred jumps when Jughead calls his name. _I’m sorry about Mrs. A_ , Jughead offers, sincere and naïve, not quite understanding the situation at thirteen.

Fred turns his head to wipe his tears but Jughead sees it anyway. _Thanks, Jug_ , Fred says, his voice raspy like his dad’s when he’s too many drinks in. _It’ll be okay._ Unlike his dad, Fred managed to keep his fatherly tendencies when he’s drunk.

 _That’s what my dad says_ , Jughead says, wringing his hands together, taking a step into the living room. _That you’ll be okay. That you’ll take good care of Archie._

Jughead wants to laugh when Fred looks at him, confused, and says, _Your dad said that?_

 _Maybe you can talk to him. You know,_ he gestures uselessly, _Mom’s gone too so maybe you guys could talk about that._

Fred gives him a half smile. _Yeah, Jug. Maybe._

Jughead goes back upstairs after that but promises to never let Fred know that he hung around at the top of the stairs for some time afterward and listened as Fred cried himself to sleep.

 

* * *

 

 Jughead can count on one hand the amount of times he’s seen Fred Andrews cry besides then.

That’s not true.

He can could on one finger the amount of times he’s seen Fred Andrews cry besides then.

He comes over one evening in the days after Archie’s been officially cleared of all murder charges brought on by Hiram Lodge and finds Fred standing at the kitchen sink. He’s not actually washing dishes, but the faucet is running.

 _Mr. A?_ Jughead tries tentatively. It’s only then that he notices that Fred’s body is shaking.

Jughead takes a step towards him, but Fred suddenly realizes who’s there and springs into action, shutting the faucet off and trying his best to discretely wipe the tears from his face. _Sorry, Jug, didn’t hear you come in_ , Fred says as if everything is fine.

Except everything is not fine, Jughead thinks, not for Fred. Not right now.

 _Are you okay?_ Jughead asks, trying to get a good look at him. He feels a pang of guilt when he sees the dark circles under Fred’s eyes.

 _Fine, Jug. Archie’s not home yet_ , he offers by way of distraction. _I asked him to stop at the store for tomatoes._

Jughead doesn’t fall for it. _You’re shaking_ , he says.

Fred’s smile falters for a second. _Too much coffee_ , he says, giving a feeble attempt at a laugh. _Or maybe not enough._

 _Maybe you should sit down,_ Jughead tries, still not buying Fred’s excuse.

But then Archie comes home with the tomatoes and Fred busies himself making dinner, letting out a breath Jughead didn’t notice he was holding.

Jughead knows, he just _knows_ , that if nobody asks Fred how he’s doing and forces it out of him, he’ll never say a damn thing about it. 

He’d spent that last three weeks sitting next to Fred Andrews in the courtroom, watching as his son got berated by the prosecution.

He’d kept his cool, something Jughead admired, something FP never knew how to do, until the very last day when Hiram walked past and mentioned how ‘he wasn’t going to stop until Archie was in prison’ or some bullshit and Fred lunged at him with so much strength that he and Archie needed FP’s help to slow him down.

He remembers feeling Fred shaking under his hand, much like he was at the sink, and thinks that maybe he’s got Fred figured out.

He bends, and bends, and _bends_ … until he breaks. Boom.

The thing is, Jughead’s never seen Fred truly break in sixteen years. Which means there’s going to be one hell of an explosion coming real soon.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The thing about a town like Riverdale, especially one with Hiram Lodge amongst its residents, is that there’s never a dull moment.

Jughead knows that for a fact.

Take now, for example. Three nights after Archie Andrews is cleared of all charges against him, the gang gathers at the Andrews’ house in celebration. 

Amongst the chatter and bright smiles, Jughead watches Mr. Andrews in the kitchen, leaning with his hands against the island, head hanging.

He’s about to muster up the courage to ask Fred if he’s alright, but he’s beat to the punch.

_Freddy? What’s wrong?_

Fred jumps slightly but relaxes at the sight of her mother, who had come down to Riverdale towards the end of the trial. _Hm? Oh, nothing. Just a headache._

Bunny reaches around the island to rub Fred’s temple. _I hope it’s not a migraine. You always did get the worst ones._

Jughead sees Fred lean into his mother’s gentle touch and hum at the old comfort. _It’s not. Just a headache,_ he murmurs.

Jughead feels a pang of something, he’s not sure what. Maybe longing for his own mother, or maybe sadness at Fred’s hidden moments of vulnerability when he thinks nobody’s looking.

 _Well, can I get you something? Aspirin? Something to eat?_ He hears Bunny ask, and the pang in the pit of his stomach strikes again. Bunny’s words are simple, but it’s the way she says them that gets him. Bunny’s talking to Fred like he’s the only person that matters. Kind of like the way Fred talks to Archie.

And, on occasion, to Jughead himself.

 _I’m okay, Mom, really_ , Fred says, rubbing her back. He perks up slightly and makes eye contact with Jughead from around the corner. _Come on, this is a celebration,_ he says, clapping Jughead on the back. _Let’s celebrate!_

 

* * *

 

Jughead spends the next hour watching Fred rub his forehead when he thinks nobody’s looking Jughead tries to make a joke about Archie’s clumsiness to get a laugh out of Fred but he turns to look at him from across the kitchen island but is greeted instead with a sudden dizzy spell. He sees Fred’s hand tighten around the arm of the sofa.

Bunny’s the only other one that notices. _Are you okay?_

 _You know, I think you were right about that migraine,_ he says quietly. Jughead sees him glance around the living room to ensure that nobody else hears him. _I’m just going to go lie down for a little bit._

 _You sure? Do you need anything?_  Mary chimes in, having heard their conversation, craning her head to look at Fred.

  
Fred shakes his head and winces. _I’m fine_ , he says, kissing his mother’s temple and rubbing Mary’s shoulder gently. _I just need a quick nap. I’ll be down before dinner._  

Jughead watches from the kitchen as Fred disappears quickly up the steps. _Is he okay?_

 _Oh, yeah,_ Mary says nonchalantly. _He’s just got a headache. He hasn’t been sleeping well lately._  

 _That’s my fault,_ Archie says suddenly from next to Jug, his voice riddled with guilt. Jughead sighs but doesn’t answer, because even though it’s not entirely Archie’s fault, his association with Hiram Lodge had taken a toll on Fred.

 _Oh, no, Archie, that’s not what I meant,_ Mary offers quickly. She opens her mouth to continue, but FP cuts her off.

 _Don’t blame yourself, kid,_ he says as he leans against the entryway to the kitchen. _Your dad’s always had a tendency to run himself into the ground._

Jughead breathes out a relieved laugh, for once thankful for FP’s input. He seems to have a knack for chiming in with little tidbits about Fred when it mattered most.

 

* * *

 

Shit hits the fan about an hour after Fred goes upstairs.

Jughead’s half listening to Veronica relay information to the group about the latest River Vixens practice when he hears the doorbell ring.

Archie opens it to reveal Hermione Lodge. His face drops immediately.

She’s holding a copy of the Register. _I brought it by as soon as I heard,_ Hermione says, unable to look Archie in the eye. _I wanted you all to hear it from me instead of finding out in the morning._

Jughead finds himself walking to the door, taking the paper when Archie offers it to him and feels his stomach bottom out.

Mary looks at the paper over his shoulder, and even in his shocked state, he can hear her gasp.

Suddenly there’s so many people gathered around that Jughead finds himself moving onto the porch to make room. He turns to look at Mary to ask what the hell they’re supposed to do now, but out of the corner of eye, catches Fred padding down the stairs, rubbing his face.

Fred clears his throat as he steps out onto the porch.   _What are you all doing?_

Jughead sees him, but he catches the group by surprise. Archie, Betty, and Veronica turn suddenly, as Jughead attempts to cover the papers they’re looking at discretely.

Alice, FP, and a newly arrived Hermione are also there, standing beside Mary and Bunny Andrews, all of them wearing a mix of shock and concern on their face.

Fred takes a step toward Jughead and Jug feels his heart pounding in his head. He tries to get out of Fred’s reach, but he manages to take the paper out of Jughead’s hand and skims the first page of what appears to be a special edition of The Register. Jughead waits for a reaction.

He doesn’t get one.

He watches Fred re-read the heading, once, twice, three times, before finally thrusting the paper into FP’s chest.

Jughead watches his father finally read the headline.

**_Formal Mayoral Candidate’s Secret Drug Past Revealed: Fred Andrews’ Stay at the Sisters of Quiet Mercy_ **

Never a dull moment.

 

* * *

 

  _Sisters of Quiet Mercy, huh?_ Fred says. His tone his harsh, and Jughead notices he’s not making eye contact with anyone.

 _Hiram Lodge is having these delivered as we speak. Special edition due to breaking news,_ Alice says quietly, bitterness dripping from her every word. Jughead can’t blame her; Hiram Lodge had bought out her paper and turned it into a joke.

 _Fred_ , FP starts, but Fred rushes past him, eyes fixed ahead of him.

 _Dad, where are you going?_ Archie calls. He starts to run after him, but FP sticks a hand out.

_To beat Hiram Lodge into dust._

Jughead thinks that maybe this is the explosion that he’s been waiting for.

 

* * *

 

 

 _Hey, hey, hey, Freddy, you’ve never been one to talk with your fists. Don’t start now,_ FP says hurriedly, his hands on Fred’s shoulders, trying with all his might to stop Fred from getting into his truck. 

Fred tries to push past him. _You’re one to talk,_ he snarls.

 _Hey, that’s my point, man. You don’t wanna end up like me. Just take a breath, okay?_ FP shuts the truck door and tries to redirect Fred. Jughead stumbles out of the way and can’t help but thinking of the irony of the situation. How the tables have turned.

 _Get out of my way,_ he snaps, stepping away from FP, but FP follows him.  

 _Fred,_ Alice starts, but FP shakes his head at her.

 _Dad? Dad!_ Archie calls just as FP’s going to say something else, finally coming down the porch steps to join the group.

 _Just take a breath,_ Jughead hears FP whisper into his ear from behind as Fred turns to face his son.

 _Pack a bag, Archie,_ Fred all but shouts, pointing back into the house.

 _What? Why?_ Archie’s brows furrow in confusion, as he looks back at Jughead and then at FP for support.

Jughead stars blankly back. He knows what to do when his dad when he gets like this. He has no idea what to do now.

 _We’re leaving,_ Fred snaps again.

 _Now, Frederick,_ Bunny starts, taking a step towards her son, but Fred steps away.

 _No! No!_ Fred’s shouting now, waving frantically. _Do none of you understand? Hiram Lodge is not going to stop until he destroys my family and this town. We’re leaving. Archie, go get your things._

 _Fred,_ Hermione tries, but Fred cuts her off.

 _No! No,_ he snarls, _you stay out of this. Don’t act like you didn’t know this was coming!_ Fred yells, jabbing a finger at her face.

_Fred, I honestly didn’t, I swear. Hiram’s the one that owns the paper, not me!_

_Oh, bullshit, Hermione! Hiram wasn’t even in Riverdale when I was at the Sisters! How the hell could he have known?_

_Fred, all he had to do was find the old records…_ Alice trails off, attempting to offer a voice of reason.

Fred ignores her. _You honestly expect me to believe that you didn’t know what your husband was doing?_

 _I didn’t!_ Hermione pleads.

Fred rolls his eyes, but sees his son still standing there. _I thought I told you to pack a bag!_

 _Fred, you have to calm down,_ Mary tries again, stepping closer to her ex-husband, trying to redirect him back into the house.

While Fred’s not looking, Bunny reaches over to usher Jughead and Archie and the girls into the house. _Go inside,_ she says, _It’s okay. Just stay inside. Just give him some time,_ she says to Archie in particular.

They do, but Archie opens the front door a crack, so they can listen.

They watch as back outside, Fred has rebuffed Mary’s attempt to calm him down, and is now doing the same to FP again.

 _Alright, come on, man. Let’s go for a drive, okay? Let the kids stay here for a while,_ FP offers.

Fred shakes his head violently. _No. No! I want everyone to leave_ , he gestures to the street. He looks wildly from one person to the next, starting at them with deeply angry eyes as they look back in shock. _Now! Leave now!_ he says when nobody moves.

Bunny shares a look with Mary as they sigh defeat and slink back into the house.

FP steals his helmet, making one last attempt. _You know my number, Freddy. I’ll keep my phone on,_ he says as he revs the engine of his motorcycle.

 _Fred, I’m sorry-,_ Hermione starts, but Fred cuts her off.

 _Save it,_ he snaps.

She feels Alice’s form hand on her shoulder and hears her say, _I think you better go,_ as she gives a gentler pat on Fred’s shoulder and returns to her own home.

Jughead watches as Fred stands on his lawn, alone, hands clenched into fists.

After what seems like hours, he finally returns back into the house, letting the door slam behind him. He climbs the stairs to his bedroom, ignoring the look of concern from his family and his son’s friends.

Bunny gives him a few minutes before following him up.

The boys give her a few minutes before following her up too, standing at the top of the stairs to listen in.

 _Freddy_ , they hear Bunny say _. You’ve got to calm down, dear. It’s over now._

 _Over?_ Fred barks out with a bitter laugh, stopping mid-button. _It’s not over. It’s never going to be over._

_Fred, honey, Archie’s safe now._

Fred shakes his head _. No, he’s not! He’s not safe and it’s my job to protect him and if I have to drag him out of this town to do that then so be it!_

_Fred-_

_No, mom. You don’t understand._

_Then explain it to me._

Jughead feels that pang in his stomach again, the same one he felt during the celebration. Something about mothers and sons, he thinks. Something about Bunny knowing exactly what to say and how to say it.

Fred’s anger turns to fear as he lets out a shaky breath and joins his mother on the edge of the bed. _Every time he walks out that door it’s like I can’t breathe, because I don’t know he’s ever going to come back._

 _Oh, Freddy…_ She takes his hand in hers.

 _His whole life all I’ve ever tried to do is make a good live for him…_ Jughead feels Archie stiffed beside him. He knows this is a sore subject for both of them.

_You have._

Fred looks at his mother like she’s grown another head, anger replacing fear once again. _He was on trial for murder, mom! I let that happen!_

_You couldn’t possibly have known…_

_It’s my job to know_ _! I’m his father! And I failed, mom! I couldn’t protect him!_ Fred stands up again suddenly and begins pacing in front of his mother.

 _You did **not** fail, Frederick, do you hear me? You are a good father. The best. _ She tries to cup his face in her hands, but he swats her away.

 _And now,_ Fred says as if he didn’t even hear her, _another one of my failures is broadcast front and center. Front page of the Register._

_Freddy, that was not a failure…_

_Wasn’t it?_ he stops pacing to glare at Bunny. He knows this’ll hurt her, but he can’t find it in himself to stop. _You and dad were so ashamed you lied to the whole town!_

Pang, again. But it’s different this time. More disheartening than anything. 

_We were trying to protect you!_

_Protect me? Do you have any idea what it was like in there?_ He pauses, then scoffs _. Well, you can read all about it in the paper._

_Fred, please…_

_I’m tired, mom. I think it’s time we go to bed._

_Freddy, please. Don’t go to bed angry._

_I’m not angry,_ Fred sighs, sitting on the bed to take off his shoes. _I’m just… tired._

Bunny swallows her tears. _Okay,_ she says weakly, planting a kiss on Fred’s forehead and brushing his hair back. _You rest. I’ll see you in the morning, dear. Goodnight._

 _’Night,_ Fred rasps back before collapsing onto his bed.

 

* * *

 

They manage to sprint into Archie’s room before Bunny leaves, where Jughead is faced with a devastated Archie.

 _This is my fault_ , Archie says.

Jughead sighs, defeated. _No, Arch. It’s Hiram Lodge’s fault. That’s it. Nobody else’s._

But Archie’s barely listening, his head in his hands, sitting on the edge of his bed.

Jughead finds himself once again at a loss for words. This was one of those things that doesn’t feel like it’s even happening, like something right out of a bad dream. Something so undisputedly uncharacteristic that its actually unbelievable.

He joins Archie on the bed, hand on his shoulder, and prays that they wake up soon.

 

* * *

 

He manages to get Archie to bed eventually but wakes up around midnight to find his bed empty.He tries to ignore it at first, tries to roll over and go back to sleep and pretend like nothing’s wrong, but that’s a tried horse. It never works.

He finds Archie out on the porch, guitar in hand, strumming mindlessly, and joins him, wordlessly, and rocks the porch swing gently with his legs. It’s not long before Fred joins them too.

 _Hey,_ Fred mumbles, shutting the front door behind him.

 _Hey, Mr. A,_ Jughead offers as he feels Archie tense beside him. _You okay?_

Fred shrugs, taking a seat on the chair on the other end of the porch. _Couldn’t sleep._

 _Yeah, me neither,_ Archie says quietly.

 _Dad, we’re sorry,_ Archie says.

 _Boys,_ Fred starts at the same time.

 _Sorry,_ Archie says with a nervous laugh.

 _No, you go ahead,_ Fred says, gesturing to Archie.

 _I, uh,_ Archie fumbles, fiddling with the waistband of his pants. He opens his mouth again, but nothing comes out.

 _We heard you talking to Grandma A earlier,_ Jughead says in an attempt to relieve Archie.

 _Jug,_ Fred sighs, exhausted, feeling his heart sink.

 _You’re not a failure,_ Archie whispers.It’s comes out quiet and shy, and Fred’s not even sure he heard him correctly.

Jughead suddenly feels like he’s intruding. He wants desperately to get up and leave but can’t find it in himself to interrupt the moment.

Fred says after he finds his voice. _You guys weren’t supposed to hear that._

 _Dad, you always make me talk to you about how I’m feeling._ He hesitates before continuing, leaning forward to be closer to his father. _You can tell us things, you know._

 _I know, Archie,_ Fred says quietly, giving his son a sad smile.

 _That’s what we’re here for, Mr. A, Jughead says,_ finally finding his voice.

 _No, it’s not,_ Fred sighs, disappointed in himself _. That’s what I’m here for. That’s **my** job. _

_We just want you to be happy, Dad._

_I am happy._

_I don’t think you are!_ Archie exclaims, frustration deeply seated in his voice.

Jughead definitely thinks he shouldn’t be here.

_Archie._

_No, Dad! I know how much you’ve given up for me. For mom, and Grandpa Artie, and FP and everybody…_

Fred takes the pause as a chance to cut in. _Hey,_ he soothes. _Sure, I gave stuff up. But I did that. On my own. Nobody put a gun to my head and made me._ He takes a moment to wince at the irony. _Everything that I’ve done has been my decision and my decision alone. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat._

Archie looks at his father, their eyes locking. _I just don’t want you to go through life and then end up resenting us…_ he trails off.

_End up resenting you?_

Archie wrings his hands and Jughead looks away. He’s not built for conversations like this.

 _Boys, I could never resent you._ Archie continues to look at his hands, so Fred continues. _Hey,_ h e coaxes. _I could never resent you, do you understand me? There’s nobody on this earth that I love more than the two of you. There never will be._

_Why didn’t you tell us you were at the Sisters?_

_Arch, it’s not a part of my life I like to think about._

_I thought we told each other everything._

Fred can’t help but give a feeble laugh at his son’s naiveté. _Son, there’s things that you don’t need to worry about._

Archie’s lets out a frustrated sigh but is interrupted by voices in the distance. He and Fred both look up to see Betty and Veronica coming towards the Andrews’ house.

 _Hey,_ Betty stage whispers when he gets to the driveway. _We were hoping you guys would be awake._

 _What if we weren’t?_ Archie asks with as much playfulness as he can offer.

 _Betty’s mom has a key_ , Veronica says nonchalantly, a playful smile on his face.

 _Mr. A_ , Betty says, stepping forward from behind Jughead. _We just wanted to say we’re sorry about all this. We had no idea Mr. Lodge was going to print those records in the newspaper._

 _And you can rest assured that I will give Daddy a piece of my mind when I see him,_ Veronica supplies.

Fred gives her a sad half-smile from his seat. He sucks in a breath before saying, _It’s alright. You all had no way of knowing. I’m the one that should be apologizing. I reacted badly,_ he says as he rubs his gunshot scar absentmindedly. _I’m sorry._

 _Ah, Mr. A., you don’t have anything to be sorry about,_ Jughead says, rubbing his hands together against the brisk autumn wind.

Fred takes note. _It’s getting cold. Why don’t we go inside? You guys want hot chocolate?_

 

* * *

 

 Twenty minutes later, Fred joins the kids at the dining table, settling the final cup of hot chocolate in front of Betty before pouring two cups of tea for Veronica and himself.

He wrings his hands together nervously. _I, uh_ , he pauses to clear his throat. _I broke my shoulder when I was 16, and then I dislocated it again a few months after it healed. The doctor said I had to stop playing baseball, but, uh, I was being scouted and I just couldn’t afford…_ he trails off, sighing.

Jughead takes the opportunity to interrupt. _Mr. Andrews, you don’t have to…_

 _No,_ he says, eying her kindly. _I do_. He pauses again to collect himself, rubbing his knee. _I started taking more than the recommended dose of oxy the doctor gave me_ ,” he says, a hint of bitterness in his voice. _At first, it was just to get through games, then to get through the day, and before I knew it, I couldn’t stop. And I was good, at first. Nobody caught on,_ Fred says, looking up to meet each teen’s eyes. _But one day I guess I took too many. I didn’t OD or anything like that, he adds assuringly, but mom, my mom, found me passed out outside the house. She took me to the hospital and they found out… once they did a blood test._ He stops again, releasing a shaky breath and resting his elbows on his knees. _My parents sent me to the Sisters that summer to get clean._

Jughead meets Fred’s eyes, noticing the unshed tears lingering. _Mr. A., my dad says he didn’t know anything about this. I thought you guys were best friends._

Fred, who’s head is hanging, shoulders hunched, looks up at Jughead. _We were,_ he rasps. _And he didn’t. Only my parents knew. My brother. Everyone else thought I was in Connecticut helping my uncle build houses._

 _But Mr. A,_ Betty says hesitantly, _I mean, the stuff they talk about in your file… I mean some of it is practically … This sounds like torture…_ she trails off shyly.

Fred doesn’t look up this time. _The sisters had some unconventional methods,_ he murmurs.

 _Unconventional?_ Archie’s voice raises before he can stop himself _. How could you not tell anyone?_

 _Archie…_ Betty warns.

 _Who was I going to tell, Archie?_ Fred counters back in the same raised tone Archie used. _Nobody knew where I was._ He stops himself before he’s practically shouting _. I tried to tell Grandpa Artie,_ he says more quietly, his tone sad, _but he thought I was making excuses to get out._

Jughead can’t believe this is happening. For as long as he’s known Fred, he’s seemed like the most put together adult he’s ever known. To know that he’d been through something like this when he was their age… He looks at Archie, knowing he’s feeling the same. Archie opens his mouth to apologize, but Fred’s speaks again. _I just- I kept my head down and got out of there as fast I could and never looked back. It’s in the past and we’re all better for it._

They’re all silent for a minute and Fred’s about to leave the kids to it when Jughead speaks, his tone quiet and almost childlike. It’s all he can manage. _I’m sorry, Mr. A._

Fred sighs. _It’s okay, Jug,_ he says, leaning over to rest a comforting hand on Jug’s shoulder. _You didn’t know._

 _Nobody knew,_ Betty added gently. _Mr. A, you didn’t have to hide this all these years. You could’ve talked to my mom, or Mr. Jones…_

 _Or us,_ Archie adds. He looks at Fred with sad eyes, reminding Fred of their earlier conversation. _You always say we have to tell each other everything…_

Fred gives him a half smile and scrubs at his face. _I thought that I could get through it and forget about it._ He hesitates for a minute, before adding, _But you’re right. I should’ve talked to someone, I should’ve said something._

He’s back to looking down at his feet when Jughead leans over gently and says, _You still can._

Fred looks at him and gives another sad half-smile. He nods slowly. _Yeah, you’re right,_ he rasps. He pauses again, then decides it’s time to end the conversation. _You kids finish your drinks,_ he says, clapping Jughead on the shoulder as he gets up. _I think it’s time I get some sleep._

He’s halfway up the stairs when Jughead finds his legs moving behind him. _Hey Mr. A?_

He’s had enough with unspoken languages. He’s never actually told Mr. Andrews how much he means to him, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do it tonight.

He turns and doesn’t give Fred a chance to speak before he envelopes him in an uncharacteristic hug. _I, uh, I love you, you know,_ he whispers into Fred’s shoulder.

Fred smiles. Jughead suddenly feels like he can breathe again. _I know, Jug_. _I love you too. I love you too._  


End file.
